


Chasing Tomorrow

by Spyridon



Series: Future's Promise Series [1]
Category: Fast and the Furious Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-01
Updated: 2012-11-01
Packaged: 2018-10-31 05:13:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10892415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spyridon/pseuds/Spyridon
Summary: A single action can have far reaching consequences. That fateful day, Brian knew the motorcycles coming down the street weren't just driving through. He had seen them before and even as the first gun came up, he was jumping over the small wall towards Jesse.





	Chasing Tomorrow

* * *

_I hit you and you hit me back_  
_We fall to the floor, the rest of the day stands still_  
_Fine line between this and that_  
_When things go wrong I pretend the past isn't real_  
_Now I'm trapped in this memory_  
_And I'm left in the wake of the mistake, slow to react_  
_So even though you're close to me_  
_You're still so distant_  
_And I can't bring you back_

 _No matter how far we've come,_  
_I can't wait to see tomorrow_

 **Linkin Park** _,_  
_'With You'_ from the album _'Hybrid'_

* * *

The officer reemerging in Brian O'Conner knew that Dominic Toretto would do anything to protect anyone he conceived as a part of his family and there was no doubt in Brian's mind that the older man saw Jesse as a nerdy, younger brother who needed to be protected. Seeing the open driveway to the left of the house, Brian quickly pulled the orange Supra Jesse had designed on his computer and brought to life into the driveway, immediately catching sight of the deep black 1970 Charger Dom and his father had built together sitting quietly at the top of the driveway, her face pointing toward to the street.

Movement in the open garage caught his eyes. His chest seized for a moment as Dom walked out of the darkened interior, a Mossberg shotgun held in his hand, his face set in a grim expression.

The officer quickly came to the forefront, his training kicking in even as the engine shut off. Brian threw open the door as he ducked behind it, just as he had been taught at the academy, his Colt Commander pistol-sight pointing steadily at Dom's center of mass.

"Dom, put the gun down now!" Brian yelled, hating the fact that even he could tell the hint of desperation that was coloring his tone. Where had the confident officer, who had been trained to take control of a situation, gone?

Dom only looked at him as he was nothing but an irritant. "Move your car." Brian felt himself responding to the order before he knew what was happening. He caught himself, forcing his body to disobey Dom's order. He wasn't a soldier under Dom's command. He was an undercover officer for the Los Angeles Police Department and he'd be damned if he lost control of the situation even more.

Feeling the anger building up in him, Brian stood up. "No, bullshit! Put it down now. No more running!"

Dom slammed the door, approaching Brian like a Titan who had reached the end of its rope against rebelling mortals. "I'm not running!"

As if pulled by gravity, Brian could feel himself reciprocating, approaching Dom even as his gun started to lower to the ground. "Where's Leon and Letty?" He asked even deep inside, he knew the answer.

"They're long gone." The tilt of Dom's head implied they were now out of the LAPD's reach, specifically, Brian's.

Feeling a sense of acceptance, Brian looked at Dom in the eye, the gun unconsciously coming back up to point directly at Dom's heart. "Then it's over. I didn't call the police but don't push me! Put the gun down, I swear to God."

Dom exploded, pointing his finger at Brian. "You ARE the cop! You are a cop, Brian!" The ring of betrayal rang clearly in the older man's voice, the pain rubbing salt into the silent wound in Brian's heart. "I got to find Jesse before they do. I'm all the kid's got."

Jesse. Brian knew that Tran would be looking all over for him. The humiliation Johnny Tran had felt when the LAPD had raided his home in front of his family had sent the man into a psychotic rage, especially after his father had disowned him. Jesse escaping Race Wars in front of the other racers had been liked adding a truckload of NOS to an already burning flame. There was no doubt in Brian's mind that Tran would want Jesse dead for the slight. "I'll call in the plates. PD will pick him way before Johnny gets even near him."

Dom cocked the shotgun in his hand, the sound of the cartridge moving into the chamber setting Brian on edge again. "Move your car." The growl was back in Dom's voice, immediately telling Brian that he was now being perceived as an obstacle that needed to be removed.

Permanently if necessary.

The sound of the front door opening alerted them to Mia's presence. Despite the fact that Brian knew Dom was the immediate threat, Brian felt his eyes shifting to her form leaning against the door as if it would be the last time he saw her. Shaking it off, he slid his eyes back toward her brother. "Dom, stop it! It's over, _please_."

Dom tilted his head toward his sister, his eyes never leaving Brian. "Mia, stay out of it. Move the -"

The screeching of tires had both men turning toward the street, a familiar Jetta coming to a screeching halt almost on top of the sidewalk. An erratic Jesse climbed out of the driver's seat, his face twisted in agony and uncertainty, totally unaware of the events that had happened since he left Race Wars.

"Dominic, I'm so sorry. I don't know what I'm doing, Dom." The hopelessness Brian saw on Jesse's face was the same feeling the officer had inside of him. "I'm SO scared right now. I don't know what's going on."

Dom turned his head at Brian with an expression of 'see?' before he dropped the silver shotgun on the grass at his side. Turning back to Jesse, Dom raised a hand to his head. "Jess, what were you thinking, man?"

"I don't know. I _panicked_. I'm sorry. _I'm sorry_! I don't know what I'm doing. **WILL YOU PLEASE HELP ME?"**

Even as Jesse's hysterical voice reached a feverous pitch, the sound of high performance motor bikes had Brian turning around along Dom, both of them catching the two riders as they turned at the end of the block, heading directly for them. Even as they passed the first three houses, something about them, the _familiarity_ , had Brian spinning his body around, his body giving way to the instincts the academy had drilled into him.

Without conscious thought, he threw himself into motion, jumping the one foot high embankment and running full speed toward Jesse who was still screaming at Dom to help him. Time slowed down. The sound of gunfire immediately started then, the sound of concrete and wood cracking and splintering as the burst after burst erupted around them. Brian launched himself at Jesse the last few feet, tackling the younger man to the ground hard as the bullets slammed into Jesse's car not a moment too soon. As he hit the ground, Brian twisted his body into a roll, using the forward momentum to get to the end of the Jetta just as the duo passed by. His gun came up to his line of sight, his eye tracking the closest one. His finger squeezed, releasing two shots just as the bikers passed the house on the other side.

A bullet struck true, bringing the last guy down as he turned to see the road in front of him.

"JESSE!" Brian turned around at Mia's scream to see Dom cradling the shocked Jesse in his arms. "Oh god, no! Jesse!" Mia ran from where she had hid behind the porch and skidding to a stop at Jesse's side, checking to see if there were any gunshots on Jesse's body. From where he was, Brian could only see that Jesse seemed to be in shock, supporting a couple of abrasions on his skin where he had been roughly pushed to the ground as Brian tackled him to the ground.

And in that moment, Brian recognized the decision he had.

Stay and make the arrest of his career or go after Tran and give Dom the chance to escape, thus ending the career he had worked hard at ever since he left juvie.

Seeing Mia and Dom with Jesse who was beginning to hyperventilate, Brian made his choice.

Dom looked up from Jesse, his dark eyes catching his own and in that moment, a message had been sent and received. Standing, Brian quickly made his way to the Supra that had miraculously made it through the drive-by shooting unscathed.

The Supra purred to life as Brian shifted it into reverse, the tires screeching to catch traction on the road as the lone bike continued to speed down the street.

Brian reached for the radio hidden in the glove compartment.

"This is undercover officer Brian O'Connor. I'm in pursuit of a suspect of a drive-by shooting; requesting back up." The lone biker turned as he sped onto West Kensington, spraying another hail of bullets at him. Brian cursed as the parked cars on either side were hit. The only thing he could hope for was that Tran ran out of bullets soon. Considering how difficult it was to reload a Cobray two handed while stationary, driving a motocross bike one handed would be damn near impossible. But Internal Affairs would still not look too kindly when the damages were finally calculated.

 _Like they're going to look kindly on the fact that I just let a wanted suspect go._ Brian grimly thought to himself. _I just broke even further protocol by leaving another suspect bleeding in the middle of the street._

"What is your 10-20?" The cool, feminine voice of a dispatcher came over the line.

"West Kensington, turning north on Leveta Terrace. Lone biker, heavily armed, riding a red motorcycle."

"10-4. All units, please respond to a pursuit in progress -" The dispatcher began relying the information to the others as Brian quickly spun the car west on West Sunset Boulevard, Tran weaving in and out of the light traffic in an effort to lose him. The Supra easily kept up the bike, a testament to Jesse' genius as it maneuvered around cars and bikes, responding smoothly to Brian's motions. As the chase continued, Brian kept the dispatcher informed of Tran's movements through the streets of Echo Park.

Again, Tran changed streets, slipping north on Lamoyne Street. Brian stayed on his tail as he switched to Montana Street then North Glendale Boulevard. Tran sped up, the front wheel coming off the street as he crossed the center divider. The oncoming traffic served around the biker right into Brian's path, tires screeching in protest as their occupants panicked to swerve out the way. Brian cursed as he pulled the Supra hard to the left then jerked back to the right, clearing the oncoming SUV and small coupe by inches, the back tires skidding around before regaining traction on the asphalt.

 _Where are they?_ Brian cursed as he kept the dispatcher informed of his location and the close calls. He had heard tales of patrol officers who were suspected of being dirty or too clean, losing the trust of the other officers. When they called for back-up, response would take minutes of not hours, leaving the officers in question to deal with the situation they found themselves in, usually ending up with the officers in the hospital or worse. Department heads turning away, not wanting to acknowledge the distrust between the divisions. Was that happening now? Did they already know?

Finally the chase came to end as they reached the beginning of the Glendale Freeway. Tran tried to enter the freeway but a truck got in the way as it entered the entrance ramp, forcing the shooter to slow down to enter the tunnel turning to the left. Seizing his chance, Brian slammed his foot down on the accelerator as he swung the steering wheel to the right. The front bumper caught the back wheel as the whole car turned sideways. Brian switched his foot to the brakes, bringing the car to a stop right in the middle of the street before it could complete the 180 turn.

But Tran, being the pro rider he was, had been expecting it and quickly corrected the bike before it slipped out of his control. Seeing his own opportunity, he turned around to bring up the Cobray. Brian raised his gun and let loose the remaining bullets in his magazine but it wasn't fast enough as the Cobray spit out a hail of bullets. Brian grunted as a bullet slammed into his left shoulder, blood spreading from the hole. A few of the bullets slammed into the Supra, the metal ringing as holes were torn open in the body work.

Through the haze of pain, Brian saw as Tran tumbled to the ground, the bike and man sliding until they hit the far wall and came to rest.

Heart pounding, Brian quickly checked the car over including the NOS tanks, making sure nothing vital had been ruptured.

Making sure that he didn't agitate his injured shoulder further, Brian got out of the Supra and with the gun in his right hand, went to the fallen man's side. He checked for a pulse but found none. The sight of the unfocused open eyes and the tilt of the head, Brian immediately knew the man was dead but procedure dictated he confirm Tran's death. He kneeled as he stared at Tran and switched his gun from his right to his left, wiping his uninjured arm across his mouth, wondering what was going to happen now. Already, he could hear the sounds of the backup units coming.

A little too late.

Tires squealed up and down the street as the cruisers came into view, their red and blue strobe lights flashing on top.

Setting his jaw in determination and acceptance, Brian got to his feet, gun pointing to the ground as he meet with officers running toward him, guns drawn.

* * *

Opening the door to his house, Brian dropped the bag of medication the doctors had given him and closed the door shut with his foot. He slumped against it, letting his head hit the solid wood. Pain flared from his injured shoulder but he didn't feel it. Suspended indefinitely until further notice. He snorted with ill humor. Just another way of saying 'you're fired'. Sliding to the ground, he stared at his hand, going back over what had happened since the drive by.

By the time the police had gone to the Toretto residence, Dom and Jesse were gone, leaving only Mia behind to direct the paramedics to the dead man on the street. The preliminary report from the medical examiner's office was that man had died from the shotgun wound to the chest. Since Brian did not carry a shotgun and that he had reported that he had left the wounded man behind, his superiors assumed Lance Nguyen had been killed by Toretto before he fled. Brian could not say that he felt sorry for the man. After all, he had the intention to kill Jesse and if he took either Dom or Mia, it was an added bonus.

As for him, the bullet wound has missed everything that was vital, tearing through his body right above his collarbone and damaging only his muscle tissue. If he didn't do anything strenuous that would tear the wound open again as it healed, he could be back on light duty within four weeks and fully recovered by six. If he was still an employed officer.

Brian slammed his fist against the ground. What had gone wrong? The assignment handed to him by Tanner and Bilkins was just to find out who was behind the hijacking and collect evidence but when it came down to it, he had not been able to give Dom and his crew up to his supervisor. And for what, exactly?

Vince and Leon probably hated him just on the principle that he was a cop. Jesse probably didn't hate him but that was because he owed Brian his life. Letty would definitely love to leave an imprint of her tires on his face for trying to turn her man into the cops. Dom had surely wanted to kill him and bury his ass in the middle of nowhere as he had been the one to let Brian into the family. And Mia, he had broken the cardinal rule of going undercover; never get close to your marks and their relatives. Despite the warnings, he had fallen in love.

He buried his face into his knees. He had let the case that could have made his career run right through his fingers for an illusion that he was part of the family, a family that now hated him for betraying them to the police. The force hated him as well for betraying their trust. They had trusted him to be loyal to them and to get the job done and now they had been shown that he wasn't loyal to them at all.

Now, he had nothing to show for it.

The best thing he could hope for was that he wasn't accused of going native on his first and probably last undercover operation, that he wasn't charged for obstructing justice and aiding wanted criminals to escape custody. That was the worst case scenario; being found guilty and thrown into prison. Brian knew for a fact that he would never last a week there much less for whatever prison sentence he was given. Hated by the other prisoners, despised by the prison guards, Brian would be left alone to find for himself against everyone. If he was lucky, the department would not fire him, keeping him as a demoted officer who would patrol the grittiest portion of the city for the next couple of years or given the choice to resign quietly with pension.

He had gone from a promising young officer who had graduated from the police academy in Arizona with the highest marks ever recorded to a dirty cop who was now being investigated for helping an ex con as well as for the failure of major operation.

So much for continuing the family legacy, Brian thought grimly.

Officer Grade 1 by the time he was 20. Then the call from his sergeant in Tucson had come and who informed him of an opportunity in Los Angeles as the LAPD was looking to hire more officers. He had put in for a transfer and within a month found himself patrolling the streets. And it was there in LA, he had reached Officer Grade 2 by the time he became 21. While on the job, he had caught the eye of his sergeant. Tanner had been the one to pick him personally for the Toretto case. If he brought to the case to a close, the force would give him a write off to allow him to begin training to become a Detective Grade 1. Eager at the opportunity, he had taken it.

Barely 22 years old and he was already unclean. No doubt the supervisors were currently discussing what to do with him. He was evidence of their screw-up. Probably by now, his family in New York was receiving word of his failure at the very moment.

Brian struck out at the door in anger before it quickly left, his shoulders slumping.

There wasn't anything he could do now except for running tail and leaving. He quickly disregarded that thought. There was no doubt that they would eventually catch him and adding another charge to his growing list was not a smart move.

Bracing himself, Brian got up from the floor, picked up the medication, and walked into the kitchen to make himself some dinner.

He needed to prepare for the IA investigation.

* * *

Brian sat before the review panel, dressed in his dark blue uniform, his cap on the simple table before him. Behind a large mahogany desk, sat Ezekiel Gutierrez, the FBI director of the LA office, the Police Chief Carlisle L. Bailey, the Deputy Chief of the Central Bureau Julio Pastor, and Captain Stephen Ramirez, the Commanding Officer of the Rampart Division. To Brian's right, FBI agent Bilkins and his team sat quietly. Sgt. Tanner, Brian's direct supervisor stood to Brian's immediate left.

Ever since the case had gone down the drain, Tanner had not talked to Brian of his free will, addressing the young officer if he had to. Even then, Tanner had yet to look at him in any capacity past brief glances.

For the past week, the panel had gone over the case, calling forth witness after witness, picking apart stories and reports. They had mulled over Brian's actions and choices, asking why he had done what he did. Everything had been gone over with a fine tooth comb.

He had told them of how he was able to initially infiltrate the racing world through the Racer's Edge when he had been hired by Harry Reuben as an employee and from there, began meeting the other racers, some of whom were the targets of the investigation. In explicit detail, he had described the race, the planned police chase, the invite into the team, and how it had all gone down the drain.

When the panel had questioned him regarding Vincent Alvarez's injury, he informed that he had noticed major differences between this hijacking and the previous ones described by the truckers and the police on scene. Instead of wearing the usual black clothing, Alvarez himself was wearing none of the clothing the hijackers had worn. His face was unmasked, allowing the man to be easily identified, especially with his distinctive tattoos. It had led to questions of why Alvarez would not cover his face if it was a real hijacking since the early morning sun was already rising in the east. Also, there had been no gun on Alvarez or even signs of a tranquilizer dart.

By the time Brian and Mia had shown up, Brian reported, Alvarez was already on the truck and had already sustained injuries by the trucker while the Hondas were harassing the trucker further. When the Honda drivers realized they were not alone anymore, they panicked, causing one of them to clip the wheels of the semi and sending them into the desert. The second Honda pulled back to presumably retrieve the injured driver. Brian, unsure of the third Honda, quickly removed it by shooting the engine with the shotgun Mia Toretto had secured while her brother was away. It was then Brian rescued Vince from the aggressive trucker, saving his life and blowing his cover in the process.

Of course, there was no proof that the shells came from the shotgun Brian claimed to use. Since Dom had used the Mossberg to permanently put Lance down in the middle of the street, everyone had assumed that Toretto had taken the shotgun with him to get rid of the evidence, fearing that he would be put on trial. The DA's office had determined that Nguyen's death was justifiable since the downed gunman had been reaching for the micro-Uzi he had used to shoot up the Toretto house. Dom had only reacted to keep his sister safe, according to the witnesses the police had talked to.

As he had told his tale, spinning the lies in an effort to save Dom and his crew, he had highlighted the mistakes he had committed, knowing each one was a mark against him. He had failed to keep his supervisors on top of his actions, failed to report a possible hijacking when he had called in the med-evac for Vince, left a dangerous and armed suspect lying in the middle of the road despite his injuries, and failed to secure a crime scene. He had failed to secure a suspect wanted in the hijackings, allowing him to leave the city with another possible suspect in tow. The list went on and on.

His report was the only official ones the panel had to go on since the lawyer Mia had procured for Vince had stated that his client would not be interrogated while he was on pain medication and at the hospital. Brian thanked the justice system at that point as there was a chance that whatever Vince might have said would contradict what he said or he could claim he could not remember anything due to the injuries he had sustained. As it was, Brian had heard that Vince was undergoing surgeries to save the use of his arm and leg. There was no doubt that Vince would have a long few months ahead of him.

Today, though, Brian would learn of the outcome of their inquiries.

"Officer O'Conner, Sgt. Tanner, please stand." Brian stood up, his back straightening more as the police chief called him to attention. "Over the past seven days, we have investigated your conduct while undercover and in the events following, Officer. You were handpicked by your sergeant for the assignment based on your previous record before joining the force in Arizona and your outstanding performance at the academy. Your objective was to infiltrate the Toretto crew with the intentions to determine who was behind the hijackings, collect evidence, and set up the fall. In the end, we must conclude that not only were you unable to bring in your target for questioning, you jeopardized the mission by informing them of your cover, failing to secure pivotal evidence, and allowing yourself to be influenced by your emotions. Your failure to follow police protocol and inability to take advantage of the situations presented to you led to suspects fleeing our custody. These are not the qualities that we look for in our patrol officers, much less are the qualities of an undercover officer of the Los Angeles Police Department."

Brian felt his heart begin to pound in his chest, his mouth going dry. He knew it was a long shot but to have the fact that he was going to be released from his duties was still a punch to the stomach.

"With the emergence of new evidence, however, it must be noted that the suspect in question, Dominic Toretto, was innocent of the allegations thrown at him." Brian barely caught his eyes in time, keeping his stare just above the panel's heads instead of looking at Chief Bailey. "Mr. Tran contacted us three days ago. It seems while overlooking the closure of his deceased son's estate, he found a warehouse on the outskirts of the city that contained four modified black Honda Civics as well as equipment ill-suited for Tran's illegal street racing activities."

The news seeped into Brian's mind and quickly, he began to piece it together. Tran actually had begun to assemble the mechanical resources needed to hijack semis in a similar fashion that resembled Dom's. The human resources could easily be procured as Tran himself had a heavy following in his corner of Los Angeles and there was no doubt in Brian's mind that Tran could easily fill the Hondas with eager bodies to cash in on the haul.

"Upon further investigation, it was revealed that the warehouse also contained equipment necessary to hijack the trucks and distribute the stolen merchandise into the black market. With this new evidence, it must be concluded that Tran was the mastermind behind the hijackings." Chief Bailey concluded, leaning forward in his chair, his grey eyes staring intently at the people in the room.

"What of Toretto and his crew? If they were innocent, why did they run?" Sgt. Tanner asked. "The moment they found out O'Conner was a cop, they split even before our cruisers pulled up to their house."

Brian forced his mouth to stay shut. If he jumped to defend Dom and his crew, they would immediately know his allegiances was not with the right side of the law anymore. Dom had mentioned a previous deal with the Trans that had gone, way before Brian had even been on the scene. It could help explain part of the tension between the two crews. Did Tran somehow know about Dom's hijackings and moved to take advantage of it? Brian snapped back to the conversation when the Deputy Chief addressed him.

"Officer O'Conner, do you have anything to say that could shed light on this?"

Taking a moment to response, Brian slowly answered, knowing the team's freedom now lay at his feet. "While undercover the first night, right after being introduced to Tran and his crew, Toretto had mentioned of a deal that had gone sour between him and Tran. Throughout my time with them, there was a rather volatile animosity between the two crews. At Race Wars, Tran had accused Toretto of flipping and narcing him out to us. At this point, I can only assume that there maybe have been more business deals between the two of them that Toretto was thinking of reading me in, which might have explained Tran's highly agitated state. When Toretto learned that I was a cop, he might have feared that I would uncover the old deal he had with Tran, thus causing them to leave. Either that or he was wary of the possibility that I might force them to narc out on the other racers. In their world, narcing on another racer is frowned upon as it is against the racing code they all ride by, especially the more hardcore racers. Considering Toretto is the King of the Streets, he would have faced harsh consequences if he himself broke it." A lie based on truth. It was ironic that Brian was using what he had been learned in his teenage years and honed at the academy against the force.

"But run off with the whole crew?"

"Toretto's crew is unlike the other crews in the scene." Brian nodded to the files on the desks. "If you read the reports I wrote, you can see that their crew is actually a family created from the misfits, outcasts, and dredges of our community. Somehow, Toretto was able to pull them all together into a family unit, one where the bonds between them all are extremely strong and resilient. They would fight for one another and kill or die to protect it if necessary. He's their leader and they'll follow him to the pits of hell if he asked it of them. The only exception is the sister as Toretto wants the best for her and as you know, the life that Toretto runs would not be easy so he tries to protect her from it as much as he can. The closest thing she's ever come to toeing that line would be appearing at the races and the couple of traffic violations she was pulled over for."

"At least one Toretto has their head on straight." Captain Ramirez commented, earning a couple of scoffs from his fellow officers.

Director Gutierrez flicked open a file in front of him, his eyes swiftly going over the report. "What about Vincent Alvarez? I still find it too much of a coincidence that he was injured during an attempted hijacking." Brian almost breathed a sigh of relief when someone else spoke up, mirroring the thoughts running in his own head. It looks like his subtle manipulations were paying off.

"Could the animosity between the two crews have been that much? They would force one of Toretto's crew members to participate in the hijackings?" Bilkins asked out loud.

"While mentioning the bad deal, Toretto also slipped that he slept with Tran's sister. I never saw her." Brian calmly replied.

"Honor in that culture is everything." One of the junior agents behind Bilkins spoke up. Brian could not remember her name but he did remember that she was the specialist on how family organizations like the Trans were ruled not only by business but also by their culture. "When O'Conner and the SWAT team raided the Tran residence the first time, the father was enraged that his son had humiliated the family name. With girls, it's even more precarious. Usually all the blame is placed on the woman in question and depending on the severity, may actually lead her to be disowned or outright killed to restore the family honor."

"Business could have been another factor." Brian added. "Out of all the crews, Toretto's was the main competitor for the Trans. Hector Gomez's and the others did not come close to being able to compete with those two."

Gutierrez nodded, a thoughtful expression his face. "The Toretto crew would have taken the blame, allowing the Tran's to take over the trade. While we focus on raking Toretto over the coals, the Trans would disappear back into the racing scene."

"It is a shame that none of the merchandise was able to be recovered. The insurance companies have been bitching about the costs of covering all the stolen hauls. The mayor and the Board of Commissioners will not like this."

"At least we can inform them that there will be no more hijackings." Chief Bailey said, tapping his finger on the folders. "If we are all in agreement, gentlemen, I believe that is all we can do. The Torettos will be alerted that they are no longer suspects."

"I still don't feel comfortable with the fact that the Toretto crew ran. Why run when you find out that you have an undercover cop among them?" The FBI director asked, stabbing his right index finger on the file cover before him. "There's something that we haven't uncovered and is probably illegal."

"At this point, there's nothing we can do. All the evidence we have is pointing at the Trans. If we try to intimidate them, they will call their lawyers and claim a harassment suit. Something we cannot afford. As it is, there is no way to recover the lost merchandise as Tran is dead and his father does not know about his son's black market dealings. The best we can do know is placating the truckers and the business industry that the hijackings had stopped and let them deal with the financial recovery with their insurance companies." The police chief stated tiredly. "As for you, Officer O'Conner, your application for Detective Grade 1 is hereby denied with addition of being demoted to the rank of Officer Grade I and with a reduction in pay for 3 months. You will also serve a month of non-paid leave which will commence after you return from medical leave. Any further consideration for promotion will be held under close scrutiny. Your file will also carry an official reprimand from Director Gutierrez and me. When you report back to your precinct, it will be up to your sergeant in regards to your new duties." The chief's eyes hardened. "Let us hope that you learn from your mistakes, Officer. Otherwise, you might have to search for a new career."

With everyone dismissed, Brian waited for the others to leave, his sergeant by his side. Bilkins came up to him and Sgt. Tanner, his mouth set in a grim line. "There is no doubt in my mind that we'll be hearing this for the next couple of weeks. Months of investigation down the drain and with nothing really to show for it."

"The evidence from Tran is still being cataloged and looked over but with the death of the Trans and the removal of imminent hijackings, I'm sure Ramirez will order them into the evidence warehouse for storage and forgotten." Tanner gruffly replied, gathering his paperwork.

"Shame that but with everything that's happening, it's understandable that he will have to shift the manpower he has left to work on higher priorities. Well then, I'll see you and O'Conner later. Tanner." Bilkins left after shaking the sergeant's hand, leaving Brian and Tanner in the empty room.

Brian turned to face his sergeant, noticing how he was still refusing to look at him. "Sir, I request that I be the one to inform Ms. Toretto of the change in the status of her brother." He asked quietly.

Tanner's eyes looked at him, his expression unreadable. "I was under the impression that she hated you for being a cop and using her to get to her brother."

"She may hate me but she won't be able to turn off her feelings for me. Unlike her brother, she'll calmly listen to people rather than threatening them. Plus, she's more familiar with me than with an unknown officer." _Not to mention the fact that she might take advantage of the situation and kill me after I tell her everything,_ Brian thought grimly.

"Should I be concerned that you are requesting this of me, especially after the accusations Agent Tanner levied at you regarding her?"

 _Hell, yes._ "No, I'm just going to see a case through."

"So there isn't any other reason as to why you wish to speak to her that I should know."

Brian's brow furrowed. "No." The lie came easily off his lips. He was getting good at that.

"Then tell me, Brian, if I were to order the comparison between the slug recovered from Lance Nguyen's autopsy to the slug found in the engine of the burned out Honda would they be the same?"

 _Shit, shit, shit._ Brian had forgotten about the fact that the engine block in the Honda would stop the bullet from going all the way through the car. "I can't say for sure. I lost sight of the shotgun once Mia got picked up by Dom." Brian gazed evenly at Tanner.

The sergeant had been on the force longer and had the gut instinct honed from years of experience of liars that told him that his own officer was trying to pull one over him. Shoulders slumping in defeat, Tanner gazed disappointedly at the man he had considered to be a son. "He got to you, didn't he? Pulled you straight in with his charisma. I knew there was a chance that you would get caught but I had hoped you were strong enough to fight against it, to deny it. I guess I was wrong about you, Brian." Tanner rubbed the back of his neck, looking around the room before heading toward the door, leaving a troubled Brian standing by the table.

The sergeant paused right before he left. "Once you come back from the medical leave and suspension, you'll report to Lieutenant Gomez at the MTD." The door silent closed behind the sergeant.

* * *

Brian pulled his red Mitsubishi 3000GT over to a stop before the Toretto house and turned off the engine. Lying on the passenger seat was a thick manila envelope bearing the seal of the FBI. Inside the yellow envelope were the summary and final conclusions of the case, the details laid out to cover all the bases. Also included were the official statements that removed all suspicion from the DT crew.

From his seat, he surveyed the familiar white house, his trained eye easily picking out the pock marks of the bullet holes in the wooden frame. One of the windows was covered with plastic and duct tape as the window pane was still waiting to be replaced by the lone occupant. His eyes fell down to the concrete wall that held up the front yard, catching sight of the holes there as well.

Right on top of where Jesse had been standing.

If Brian hadn't given in to his instincts, if Jesse had been a few more feet in front of his car, Jesse would have been dead.

That didn't matter at all now.

Pulling the key from the ignition, Brian picked up the envelope and left the car. He walked up to the front door and calmly rang the doorbell. A couple of minutes with no answer had Brian almost wishing that he had left the job to Tanner.

The door opened, Mia's face peering through the crack. An ugly expression twisted her features as she attempted to close the door in Brian's face. His forearm slammed into the door, keeping the door open.

"I need to talk to you, Mia. What I have to say to you is important."

"Oh, like I have to listen to anything from a lying bastard like you." Mia spat at him, struggling to close the door but the strong arm that had held her close against his warm chest was now preventing her from accomplishing her goal. "I _hate_ you. Didn't you destroy my life, my family, enough?"

Sadness welled up in Brian to see how much his betrayal had affected her. Violently forcing the emotions that wanted to break free, Brian leaned in closer to Mia. "I know you hate me, Mia but I know you love your brother. What I have to tell you deals with him and the rest of your family." Brian finished softly, not wanting to enflame her anger even more.

Mia eyed him critically, her nostrils flaring in anger. "Why should I trust that you are telling the truth? You are not dressed like a pig." That was true. Brian was dressed in a light grey t-shirt, light blue jeans, and black converse. Nothing at all that resembled the once-respected police officer he had been when he transferred to LA.

"I didn't think it best that I came wearing my uniform and driving a police cruiser."

"You mean you don't want to blow your cover even more." Mia sneered at him. Brian didn't reply, holding her stare. "Fine, come in but if you so as much as do anything wrong, I'll claim harassment. See how that goes over with your supervisors." She stepped back and allowed Brian to enter the house. He followed her to the kitchen table, both of them sitting at the small table across from each other.

"I would offer you a drink but I'm afraid I'm not feeling very hospitable." While her brother was very blunt in regards to his threats, Mia was a little more subtle in hers, often to the point that the offender didn't know until afterwards. Add in the fact that Mia was studying nursing, Brian was damn sure that she knew many ways that could kill a man that would be hard to detect.

"That's fine."

Mia crossed her arms, leaning back as she stared at Brian, the anger still present. "I'm waiting for what you have to say, _Spilner_."

He bit back the retort that was building up in his mouth and instead dove into the little speech he had prepared on the way over. "As you know, there was a joint operation between the FBI and the LAPD to uncover the crew behind the truck hijacking. There were three main racing teams that were the main suspects as they all of them had the skills and resources to pull it off. Your family was the primary suspect until new information was discovered in the aftermath of Tran's death, absolving your family of any wrongdoing." Brian opened the folder and withdrew the related documents, sliding it over to Mia.

"As of this morning, the LAPD and FBI have officially declared Johnny Tran and his crew to be the hijackers. With the death of Tran and Nguyen as well as the dissolution of the Tran crew, the case has been officially closed." He could see the surprise in Mia's face which was followed by suspicion.

"The situation with Vince was a difficult matter to investigate, due to the surrounding circumstances. He was found at the site of a suspected hijacking with near fatal wounds. The trucker, however, has not come forward, probably due to the legal issues behind the possession of a firearm in a vehicle. The situation surrounding the event can only be gleaned from the evidence as well as witness testimony. Based on that, it was concluded that Vince was sent up by Tran due to the animosity between the two crews-"

"What is your game?" Mia interrupted, her dark eyes staring into his. "You know damn well that it was my family that hijacked the trucks. You saw Leon and Dom driving the Hondas and you know damn well that Letty was driving the third unless, of course, you really are a blond and that stupid enough."

"The cops only found the burning wrecks of the suspected cars used in the hijacking, destroying the possible fingerprints and other evidence that have identified the suspects." Brian stated quietly. "They believe the other drivers were trying to prevent us from rescuing Vince from the trucker and that we protected ourselves from them by knocking out one of the three cars with the shotgun you had in _your_ possession. The remaining driver decided to pull back. As for the paramedics, they only saw a dark vehicle, unknown model, at the site of the emergency and assumed the others would be heading to the hospital."

"Do you really think that trying to help us out is going to undo what you did to us? We _trusted_ you, Brian. We allowed you to enter our family and you betrayed us since you came into our shop, just like a snake in the garden."

His hand tapped out a nervous rhythm on the tabletop as he tried to come up with the words to express what he felt. "What I did to you was wrong. I'm sorry. I – it was the hardest thing I ever had to do.

The words did nothing to ease the pain or lessen the anger he saw in her eyes. "I'm sorry, too. Brian. I'm so sorry that you had to come into _my_ home and _pretend_ to love me. I'm _so_ sorry that you ripped _my family_ apart. I'm very sorry that was hard for you."

"I wasn't pretending, Mia." The confession slipped from his mouth before he could even stop it.

The next thing he knew was the sharp sting in his left cheek as Mia's arm swung out.

"No, you don't get to say that to me, Spilner." Mia hissed at him, her eyes starting to water. "You don't get to say that to me after what you did. You used me to get to my brother and you really think I'm going to forgive you for that? I gave you my heart and you crushed it! You ruined everything that I thought I knew. Now your buddies are going to be keeping a close eye on us, on Dom, _my brother_!" Brian knew that Mia was a Toretto through and through. It was only further solidified when Mia pulled back her hand again and instead of slapping him again, punched him in the jaw. His head whipped sideways, his jaw throbbing in pain in concert with the still healing wound in his shoulder.

Raising a hand to his face, he looked at her, seeing the tears running down her cheeks as she gazed at him with fury, pain, and pure hatred. He moved but she stepped back from him. "Get out. You did your job, officer. Get out and don't ever return. I never want to see you again."

The pain radiating from his jaw or shoulder was nothing compared to the pain welling up in his chest. Nodding once at her, Brian turned and left, knowing he would be regretting it for the rest of his life. As he closed the door behind him, Brian tried to get the sound of Mia sobbing out of his head.

But he knew it was going to be haunting his dreams for weeks to come.

Letty took another swing from the Corona in her hand, knowing full well that she shouldn't be mixing alcohol with the medication the doctor down here in Mexico had given her. If Mia was here, there was no doubt that she would be yelling at Letty for doing such a stupid thing. Mia was like her mother, worrying over every little stunt they had ever did no matter how many times they would be fine. It was just in her nature to watch over them, making sure they weren't in pain afterwards.

Her heart ached at the thought of never seeing Dom's sister and her best friend ever again.

All because of the fucking narc they had invited into their home. Vince had been right; that the blonde was a cop and none of them had listened, thinking that Vince was jealous that the buster was getting Mia's attention. Her hand tightened on the neck of the bottle. The fucking cop had used Mia to work his way into their family, _her familia_ , all the while plotting to find a way to bring them all in.

If she ever saw him again, Letty would be sure her tires brought him down to have a close and personal encounter with the asphalt.

"Yo, Letty, food's ready!" Jesse burst into the living room where she was sitting. Letty allowed her eyes to roam over Jesse as he chatted away about what he and Leon had made for dinner. The scrapes and bruises Jesse had gotten when the cop had tackled him had been shallower than the ones Letty had received from her tumble in the Civic. The cuts had scabbed over already, dark splotches on his arm and head, the bruises deep and dark but beginning to yellow around the edges. Letty had told him that he if kept pecking at the scabs, they would eventually scar. Leon remarked that chicks digged scars. Dom hadn't laughed with them. It was only later that Letty realized that Vince would no doubt bear scars from being shot and bound by the jump cable to the side of the semi.

There was no doubt that Vince would have died from the wounds he received if Brian hadn't jumped on to the truck to save him.

Maybe, the buster's death would be instant instead of suffering a painful death by being run down.

"I'm not sure if I want to try your cooking, Jess. The last time we did, we all ended up with the runs, man." Letty helped Jesse transfer all the dishes over to the table. She wouldn't tell Jess that the smell of the food was making her mouth water. The younger man pulled out another six-pack of Corona and distributed the sweating bottles among the place mats. Leon wasn't present yet, presumably outside getting Dom from the beaten down garage that stood behind the house. It was where they had stored their cars, including Dom's Charger.

"I've been working on my skills, Letty." Jesse announced, zooming around the kitchen, fixing his beanie now and then. "This shit will taste even better than that shit I made."

"It's not like it would be that big of a leap." Letty's smile took off the biting edge of the remark, Jesse answering hers with one of his own.

"Don't worry, Let. I was watching him the whole time." Leon announced as he walked into the kitchen, Dom right behind him. "Mia's been giving us lessons for emergencies like this." Letty's heart ached at the mention of Dom's sister, always watching their back, even when she wasn't there.

"What are we eating for tonight, then, Leon?" Dom asked, taking his seat at the head of the table.

"Spaghetti, Toretto-style, and garlic bread." They all began to serve themselves, passing the dishes around in silence. The table felt like it was empty without Mia and Vince sitting along with him, even though the table was only for four people.

"Leon, say grace."

The racer nodded as they all clasped their hands together, heads bowed over their food. "Heavenly father, please watch over Vince while he's in the clutches of the police and Mia who's by herself now in Los Angeles. We thank you for watching over us. Amen."

"Amen."

"Let's eat." Dom had already taken a bite when the phone in the house began to ring.

"Who could that be?" Letty asked, everyone tensing up at the noise. Leon got up to look out the window as Dom headed where the only house phone was.

Picking it, Dom locked glances with Letty. "Who is this? Mia, what are you doing calling here? They could trace-" A long pause. "Are you sure? They're not bullshitting us?"

Letty stood up, ignoring the twinge in her shoulder. "Dom, what's going on?"

Her boyfriend only held up a hand as he continued to talk with his sister on the phone. "The lawyer said it was legit . . . . They're not going to try and arrest us if we tried to cross over the border . . . ? What about Vince . . . ? That's the official statement? I thought Vince would be done for sure . . . That fucker came back to the house? I don't give a shit about what he said. He was going to bring us in. If that lying son of a bitch tries to come back again, call the cops on his ass . . . . We'll be there by tomorrow morning. We'll leave so we can get there when the border opens. See you, Mia." Dom hung up the phone, staring down at the receiver.

"What's going on?" Letty asked a second time, edging closer to Dom. "Was that really Mia? Why would she calling us? The feds could be watching her, tapping her phone."

"Yeah, it looks like the buster came back." Dom quietly replied, still not turning around.

Letty exploded, her hands curling into claws despite her earlier thoughts. Her anger still hadn't run its course. "What did he want?"

"He dropped off some paper work." Dom looked up at them, shock etched onto his features. "They're blaming everything on Tran."

"WHAT?" Everyone started shouting at once, their voices aggravating the headache that was beginning to form behind Dom's eyes.

"Stop, stop. I can't even hear myself think. Mia said that the fucker came back and explained to her that during the closing of Tran's estate, said they found new evidence." A laugh left Dom, startling the remaining members of his team. "It looks like Tran was going to pull one over us. He actually bought everything that we did but never got there. Since they don't have our cars, they can't blame it on us and they want to look good so they blamed it on him. We're free to go back to LA."

"What about Vince? He was on that truck, man. I'm sure they have evidence to bring him to court."

Dom felt his smile slip away, a frown taking its place. "That part is not clear. Mia said that Vince is also free. The documents she has say that Vince was a victim of the animosity between our crew and Tran. They're making it look like they were trying to set us up to take the fall."

"Why do they think that?"

"I don't know." But in the back of Dom's mind, a thought tickled at him. There were only six people there that knew what really happened on the highway. One was in the hospital in serious condition, him and two more were in this very room, one was in their empty house in LA, and the last was the undercover cop. Dom quickly crushed that line of thought, refusing to go there at all.

"But can we trust them?" Letty asked, voicing the thoughts that were bouncing around in everyone's head. "Is everything legit or are they just saying that to bring us into custody once we cross over?"

"According to the lawyer that Mia hired for Vince, she says that everything has been filed with the court system. It's rock solid. The feds can't touch us. We can go back early in the morning. By the time we reach the border right now, it'll be close and I don't plan on sleeping in our cars in the lanes. Pack your bags. I want to leave as soon as possible when we wake up."

Both Leon and Jesse whooped with happiness, heading to their room and leaving Dom and Letty in the room.

Letty walked up to her man, her eyes seeing the stress lines forming in his forehead. "Are you sure about this, papa?" The last time he had gone to prison, the waiting had seemed like forever to her. When he had gone in, she was barely a teenager. By the time he had gotten out, she was a legal adult with her own car and driver's license, able to go clubbing and down alcohol.

"Mia wouldn't lie about this and I'm sure the lawyer wouldn't want to lose his license over this. I can't leave V behind to deal with all of this bullshit." The words tasted bitter in Dom's mouth at the thought of leaving his brother with the cops swarming all over his ass while he lay immobile in a hospital bed, trying to recover from the wounds he had sustained in the last hijacking.

"Did _he_ really come back?"

Dom nodded stiffly, his jaw twitching in anger at the thought of the man that had almost destroyed his family walking back into his house. "He did. Mia said that after he explained what was in the folder, he tried to talk to her, said that he hadn't been pretending about what he felt for her. That he really did fall in love with her."

"Please tell she didn't fall for what the puto was telling her."

Dom gave her a smile. "Nah, she's a Toretto. Mia smacked him one then gave him a punch."

"Damn straight." Eyes widening suddenly, Letty looked at Dom. "If he touched her . . . ?" Her brother wasn't there to watch over and they didn't know the real man underneath the blue uniform, there was no saying what the man was capable of.

"No, he didn't touch her back. Mia told me that he left when she started to cry."

"She really did love him." Letty so did not want to even talk about the possibility that buster did have feelings for the woman that Letty thought of as a sister.

Dom didn't comment on what Letty said. He took a swing from his Corona, eyeing the untouched dinner Leon and Jesse had made. It would be waste to trash it. "We should pack too. Then we can finish the meal."

"I love you papa." She kissed him lightly before leaving to their bedroom in the back. Somehow, against everything against them, what Letty had hoped had come true. Her family was in the clear and free, though Letty knew things would be rough for the next few months while they got Vince back on his feet and the cops looking at them for any wrong move. She hoped, however, that this time, her family would get through without stumbling.

* * *

The silence lying over the neighborhood was broken by the sound of high performance engines roaring down the street toward a silent white house. The few neighbors that were already up were familiar with the black Charger but not with the beat down car that followed it. Both of them pulled up into the driveway even as a woman ran out of the house to greet them.

"Dom!" She jumped onto her bald-headed brother before he could even clear the driver-side door. Her weight crushed him against the side of the car, her arms wrapping around his neck. "I'm so glad you're home."

"Mia." Dom squeezed her before gently dropping her to the driveway but still refusing to let her go completely. Being down in Mexico without the choice to visit her or even call her had him truly appreciating the time he had with her now.

"Hey, girl." Letty moved around the Charger to hug the other woman, mindful the deep bruises. "It's good to see you."

"It looks like you're healing well." Mia reached up to trace the cut on Letty's head, checking the work. "Not bad."

"Mia, don't forget about us." Jesse shouted as he ran up the driveway from where Leon had parked the car out on the street. He gave Mia a quick hug, smiling widely at her the whole while. She did a quick adjustment of his beanie before hugging Leon.

"It's good to see you guys all back here. The house seems empty without all of you making a racket at ungodly hours."

"Have you been getting trouble from anyone while we were gone?" Dom asked, eyeing his little sister. By the tone of his voice, everyone knew who he had meant.

"No. The first day, the crime scene investigators were all over the house, digging out the bullets from the wood and the ground. I watched over them to make sure they didn't take anything from here that wasn't linked to what happened in the front yard. Then he came and dropped off those documents. Other than that, everything's been quiet." Mia explained as they all headed into the house.

"What about our cars?" Jesse asked, noticing the driveway had emptied of the babies he had designed for the crew.

"I used some of my savings to get your Jetta out of the impound lot since Tran's father never collected it. Hector has it has his garage along with the pink slip, the trailers, and stuff we left at Race Wars." Mia dropped her voice. "I'm guessing your cars are still at the drop point."

"I'm guessing the cops have the Supra." Jesse muttered, digging his hand into his pocket and drawing out a pack of cigarettes. "You just don't do that to a car." He whined as he lit one. "They've probably torn it apart."

"Have the others found about him?" Dom asked.

"No. They have no clue about his resume."

"We need to keep it that way."

Letty turned around to face him. "Dom, you can't be serious! We're just going to let him walk back among us without telling the others?"

"If they found out he was a pig, they'll think that we let him in. We won't be able to race anymore. Our reputations will be ruined. I'm not saying that we let him waltz back in but I don't think he'll be coming back anytime soon. Not if he know what's good for him." Dom growled dangerously, eyes flashing in anger. The threat Dom had told Brian rang in his head. _You break her heart; I'll break your neck._ He was going to be damn sure that the narc paid for his sins if he ever came back. He hadn't felt this angry, not since when he had lost control of his anger and beaten Linder's face in. Opening his mouth, he took in a deep breath and controlled his breathing until he got his temper back under control. "No one can know about him. _No one_."

"And what happens if he does try to come back, Dom?"

"If he comes back, then we'll deal with it then but not until he shows his face here. I know that you disagree with this but the others cannot know."

"Fine, Dom. I don't like it but you're the boss."

"Leon, Letty, come with me to get our cars. I'm sure Hector has a couple of people that can help us out." Dom finally said, dropping the issue. It was time to get his life back on track after what happened. And this time, he was going to make sure that nothing ever threatened his family and home ever again.

* * *

A few days later, Dom walked past Mia's room, worried about the finances the garage and market had picked up while they were indisposed when his ears picked up the sounds of someone crying on the other side of the door, the sounds muffled. Almost instantly, he knew what he was hearing, His little sister was crying over the bastard that had broken her heart. His hands fisted, his nails biting into the skin of his palm. He should have listened to Vince, should have watched over his family but he didn't. Now she was crying for _him_.

Forcing himself to relax, Dom rapped his knuckles on the door. "Mia, can I come in?" He asked softly, trying not to let his anger seep into his voice.

"Yeah, yeah, you can come in." Dom reached out and opened the door, steeping into Mia's room far enough so he could close the door. He didn't need any of his crew, not even Letty to see what was going to happen. Mia was standing by the window overlooking the street, ineffectively hiding her movements to wipe her cheeks clean of the tear tracks running down over her skin.

"Are you okay? I thought I heard noises." Dom asked lightly, knowing Mia did not him to jump on her back.

"I'm fine, Dom. Everything's peachy." Mia answered but her tone and her body language told Dom otherwise. "All of you are back home and alive which is all I can ask for under the circumstances."

Dom walked up to his sister, gently placing his calloused hands on her face and lifting it up so he could stare into her eyes. "You're happy that we're safe and home but you're still crying over _him_ , Mia. Don't hide this from me." He told her softly.

"I'm not crying over him, anymore. I'm done with him." Mia stated stiffly, as if trying to make herself believe what she was saying but she was fooling no one.

"Your eyes tell me otherwise." His thumbs wiped away another tear as it made its way down her cheek." You still care about him."

Pain crossed her features, her head twisting away from his grip as she walked away to the other side of the room, her posture tense. He heard her sniffle a couple of times. "He was the first one that told me that you were only a bonus, that I was the reason why he was drawn in to us." Her words came out slow at first but began to pick up speed and volume until finally she was shouting it out in anger and pain. "I was happy that for the first time, my boyfriend was actually my boyfriend because he liked me for who I was and not for the fact that I was the King's younger sister. He actually listened to what I had to say, made it seem that he cared for what my opinions were. He talked to me and not at me."

"And the whole time, he was pushing for information about us and I gave it to him. I told him how the team met over the years without a care in the world. He milked me and I just gave in." Mia slowed down, collapsing on the bed, burying her face into her hands as he emotions finally became too much. Dom went to her, sitting next to her and wrapping his arms around her shaking body. She leaned against him, taking succor from him. "I gave in, Dom. I thought I finally found the one." Mia started to cry in earnest, not caring that she was being emotional in front of her older brother. She only cared that he was actually there. "I fell in love with him, Dom. I fell in love with him."

"I'm so sorry, Mia. I thought he was the one too. I should have protected you better. V was telling us that he was a cop all along and we never listened to him. I never listened." Dom rocked Mia back and forth, vowing that if the motherfucker ever came back, he wouldn't live to see the next day.

* * *

It had been fourteen weeks since the Toretto case and Brian still found himself in the Motor Transport Division garage at the Rampart Community Police Station, helping to maintain the fleet of vehicles the LAPD station used. During his recovery from his gunshot wound, he had gone to the mandatory psychological evaluations every officer was required to go through when they used their gun. Once the wound had healed, he went through physical therapy, the physical evaluations, and range tests to make he was fully fit for duty. Once he had proven to them that there was nothing wrong with him physically or mentally, they had stuck him in the garage.

Every day, he changed out of the police patrol uniform into the dark blue MTD mechanic coveralls, hanging his gun belt inside his locker at the garage. Every day, he came in to perform the same routine inspections on the Crown Victoria Police Interceptors, the Kawasaki police motorcycles, and the aging Chevrolet Caprices. He made note of the normal wear and tear on each vehicle, repairing any significant damage that ranged from broken tail-lights to worn tires. If the cruisers needed to be removed from the fleet, he made a note on the sheet for disassembly and eventual auction or scrapped and transportation to a junkyard.

The routine in the garage was similar yet so different to the one he had while working at the DT Precision Auto Shop.

Sighing, Brian rolled from underneath a CVPI that had been brought in after partaking in a short police chase. According to the officer, the cruiser had slammed hard into the pavement during the chase, enough for metal to screech in protest. Brian had checked the undercarriage to see if there was any significant damage but so far, the front bumper had been grinded down about a quarter of an inch on the bottom and some damage to the paint. The next thing on the list was to check the suspension and tires as well as the alignment.

Brian grabbed the clipboard from where he had placed it on the tool chest, quickly jotting down his thoughts. As he added the last notation, he heard someone walking up to his part of the busy garage bay. Glancing to the side, Brian saw it was Officer Huxley, the senior mechanic of the MTD garage and Brian's direct boss during his shift.

"Tanner wants to see you in his office, O'Conner. I'll have Richardson finish this one." Huxley's eyes travelled up and down Brian's form, taking in the stains and dirt on his coverall. "You might want to change first. I don't think Tanner will be happy if you dirtied his office even more."

Blue eyes narrowed at the slight jab, Brian gritting his teeth in anger but keeping himself from responding. He hung the clipboard on the wall, glancing around the bay to make sure he wasn't leaving anything unfinished. Silently, he made his way through the garage, ignoring the questioning and smirking looks thrown his way from the other mechanics.

Ever since the case, the few friends Brian had among the force were unwilling to associate with him in fear of bringing down the wrath of his superiors on themselves. Others had taken advantage, humiliating and bad-mouthing him when they could. At times, even superior officers would participate, trying to make Brian's life even more miserable. Brian just took it all without complaining, reminding himself that it was better than the piss matches and bullying he had gone through in juvenile hall and that he would survive this as well.

At his locker, Brian removed the dirty coverall, placing it at the bottom of the locker. He slipped on the uniform shirt of a patrol officer over the navy t-shirt he wore underneath the coverall. After making sure he was reasonably presentable, Brian walked to the inner offices of the precinct, enduring even more hostile looks.

He took a breath to steady his nerves before knocking on the closed door.

"Come in." Tanner's gruff voice called out. He opened the door and walked in, closing it swiftly behind him. Immediately, Brian caught sight of a familiar person sitting before Tanner, a small smile underneath his short mustache. On the desk was a folder that did not bear the mark of the Los Angeles Police Department but rather the seal of the Federal Bureau of Investigation.

Standing in the middle of the office, Brian gazed at his sergeant. "Officer Huxley told me you wished to talk to me about something."

"I'm sure you remember Agent Bilkins from two months ago." Tanner offered Brian the second seat in front of him. Nodding, Brian took the offered seat, his eyes on Bilkins who was also studying him in return. "He came here with a request that I think you might want to hear."

Bilkins picked up the opening the sergeant was giving him. "When I first came to this division with the Toretto case, the FBI did not have any agents on hand that would be able to blend into the racing underworld. Usually, the ones we sent in were either kept on the fingers for weeks before slowly making their way deeper over long periods or made completely. We asked Tanner if he had anyone on hand who could blend in with the locals, someone with experience under their belt. When he recommended you, a young officer with only 3 years of active duty with no experience in undercover work, we were at first skeptical."

At first, Brian wanted to feel insulted but relaxed as he knew it was true. His blond, wavy locks and his bright, blue eyes were vastly different from the dark hair, dark eyes, and dark skin that dominated the racers in that alien world of illegal street racing. Sure, there had been others who also had the same physical features he had but what had set him apart from them was how he carried himself. They had been weighed down by the obstacles and wrong turns their lives had taken. Brian on the other hand, had walked with an easy step that came naturally to him, his easy-going nature catching everyone in its upsweep.

"But considering your background, we decided to give you a chance but the results, however, were not the ones we expected or hoped for." Bilkins leaned forward. "Despite the fuckup that was the Toretto case, I still believe you have potential to be an undercover agent. Your sergeant agrees with me even if he does have his reservations."

Brian looked at Tanner, who wasn't looking at him. "I hear you saying agent, not officer."

"Good to hear that your skills are still sharp. You are correct. The agency needs someone who can blend in, someone who knows the environment. Despite Toretto's untrusting nature, you were able to slip into their family and carry your undercover name for weeks without training under a tense atmosphere. At the moment, it seems that your captain's fears of your cover being blown are unwarranted. The agents in the area have not heard anyone chattering about your true day job but we are not willing to take the risk of you being in Toretto's home turf. As such, if you agree, you will have to be transferred to another area so to speak."

Eyes narrowing, Brian heard the present tense Bilkins has used when speaking of the agency's need for drivers. "You want me to join the agency on a case you need a driver for." The young officer wondered if this ruse was a way to get rid of him completely. He had heard other officers grumbling about why their superiors didn't just get rid of him and hand him his notice.

"We do. This case has been ongoing for weeks now but we just can't find the necessary evidence to bring it together at the moment. The UC Customs has in place has informed us that the pieces are falling together which might give us an opening. The target tends to pull people in from the local race scene before putting them back without paying them. We can't afford to hesitate so we need someone with your skill set in place to take advantage of the opening if it arises."

"But I have responsibilities here." The taste of betrayal tasted bitter on Brian's tongue. He wondered if this was how Mia and the others felt when they learned he was a cop.

A look passed between Bilkins and Tanner, one that caused Brian's stomach to turn to lead. "I need a few minutes alone with Brian, if you would please?"

"Sure." The FBI agent got up and left.

The sergeant leaned forward on the desk, looking at the younger officer through his tinted glasses. "Let me be frank with you, Brian. Officially, the case was deemed a moderate success as the perpetrators were identified and brought in. Unofficially, however, the chiefs handed you on a silver platter to the Board and to the companies. The department could not afford another scandal on its hands since we're being investigated by the FBI due to the corruption in the CRASH unit so everything was made to look good on paper. Basically, you're on the shit list of the chief and captain. I've been trying to get you back on patrol but they seem content to keep you at the MTD and keep the blown operation under wraps from the media hounds."

Brian was silent for a few moments, his mind working through different options open to him. "What are the odds of me getting promoted or even transferred to another division or station?"

"If you put in for a transfer, there is a chance that the captain or commander may deny it once they see your record. I have a feeling they wouldn't want to take a risk. As for a promotion, chances will be even greater that you'll be denied, at least for the immediate future. I can't say that they'll continue to deny you promotions a year from now or more. You may be lucky if the police chief is replaced with a new one. Then, you _might_ have a chance to move up or get a better assignment within the police department. Either way, you're fighting an uphill battle, Brian, one that will be long and difficult. I think, in the long run, it will be better if you take Bilkins' offer, a fresh start and a clean slate."

"But that would be running." Brian got up and began to pace. "That's the coward's way out."

"There's nothing for you here in this department, Brian. You made the choice to give Toretto the chance to break for it." Tanner held up a hand to stop Brian from replying. "I know what you put down on paper but I can read between the lines. Before, you were a damn good officer, one that could have easily made police commander if not higher. You knew the rules, the procedures of keeping the suspects you have in close vicinity that the ones that are escaping. By going after Tran, Toretto had the chance to leave. If you stay here, you'll be caught in a dead-end job. You'll be a mechanic in the MTD garages for the rest of your career if the chief and captain have their way. How do you think you would feel if one of the other officers caught one of your friends with the cruisers you've been maintaining to the best of your ability?"

His muscles tensed as Tanner's words sunk in. "They're racing again?" Brian had thought that Dom would be smart and stay away from the races but he knew in his heart that Toretto would eventually race again. The way he had spoken of the freedom the illegal street races had given him was a freedom that Dom would be loathed to give up. The need to break free of the shackle of reality would start to pull at his mind, would begin to itch beneath his skin until the temptation was too much. At times, Brian himself could feel the itch under his own, beginning in his hands, creeping up his arms until it embedded itself into his heart, the beat of his own blood increasing to the point he entertained the thought of taking his Mitsubishi out to the desert.

"Unfortunately, yes. The officers who converge on the scenes have reported of sighting of Toretto and a couple of the other members of his team. They seem to have become more cautious in their dealings, staying within their immediate family. What Bilkins said was true. It looks like they didn't tell anyone else about your day job. To me, it looks like they don't to be associated with the fact that they were infiltrated by a cop, wouldn't look good for someone with their street cred." Tanner leaned back in his chair. "You still are a good cop, Brian; you still have those instincts that set you apart from the others. You've just been introduced to the moral ambiguity of our trade. We've all been through that one time or another. Now you just have to come to terms with what you've seen and decide what you want to do from here on out."

Brian looked at his feet, thinking over the choices. Stay and maintain the cars that could catch his friends or leave and become a lap dog for the FBI? Betrayal or pride? Despite everything, Bilkins and Tanner still believed he could still do his job but it wouldn't be as an LAPD officer; it would be as a special agent for the FBI. Could he survive under the federal laws of being an FBI agent?

"I'll get Bilkins." Brian opened the door and motioned the agent who was standing at the end of the short hallway with the precinct's version of coffee in hand.

Once everyone was seated, Brian nodded at Bilkins. "I'm on board. Exactly who will I be partnered with? Or am I going in alone?"

"Come to the LA office tomorrow around noon. The Customs agent in charge will be there along with your partner to meet you." Bilkins handed the file on Tanner's desk. "Read that. It has all the background information up to this morning."

"I have some things to wrap up before I leave anywhere. When do you need me?"

"The UC still says the plans are being made but the opening won't happen for another two weeks at least. Either way, you will have to be on call, ready to move in when the UC gives the signal."

Brian nodded as he flipped through the pages, eyes taking in the allegations against the mark. "If I can get everything wrapped up by the end of the weekend, I can be on the road." He muttered absently, mapping out a course to Miami in his mind. He knew that there were racing scenes in major cities as well as in the outlying areas. He would have to stick to the southern states so he wouldn't get sidetracked.

"Why not take a red-eye flight? It will get you there quicker. It'll be about a four day drive to Miami from here."

"I need to start building up my street cred. You say the Toretto crew has said nothing of my involvement as an officer. I can make it look like I left under a cloud and now I'm just roaming through the states. I would have to be careful not to rely on Toretto's credibility as news may find its way to his ear."

"But that would increase your chances of getting caught by the local PD." Tanner stated. "The FBI won't be able to help you if you get caught."

"It would be weird if I just randomly showed up on the scene in Miami. The reason why I was easily accepted here was because of the fact that Toretto took me under his wing. I can tell right now that I won't have that there. From the notes you have here, the scene there is more organized than the one down here." Brian closed the file. "If you really want my services, we going to have to give Spilner a more in-depth profile than the one made for Toretto and his crew."

"Do you still have the credential that we gave you for the Toretto case?" Tanner asked. Before Brian had entered the racing world, the LAPD and the FBI had given him authentic paperwork for his alias, the fake name printed out over a real California driver's license and identification card. If they were really going to bring Brian Earl Spilner to life, they would have to issue a new birth certificate, create paper trails, a history for a man that did not exist, while submarining his own profile among the other 300 million Americans and countless illegal immigrants who lived in this country.

Nodding in the affirmative, Brian took a deep breath and let it go. This was it; a new beginning, a new tomorrow.

"I'll notify Customs then that you've taken the offer." Bilkins stood up. "I'll see you there tomorrow." The FBI agent left, dropping the empty coffee cup in the trash can outside.

Brian shifted uneasily before lifting his hands and unclipping the silver badge from his chest and dropping it on the table along with his service gun. "I'll put in my resignation tomorrow." He didn't mention to Tanner that he had typed up his resignation while he was recovering from the gunshot wound during a bout of depression. The only thing was missing was the date and his signature.

The sergeant picked up the thin metal shield, staring at it for a while. Tanner held it out. "Keep it. You've given three years, almost four years, of your life to the force. Make sure you don't abuse it."

"I won't." Picking it up, Brian slid the badge into his pocket as officially, officers weren't allowed to keep their badges and left the office. Walking through the busy corridors, he noticed that whispers increased as the other officers saw that he did not have his badge on his chest. As he passed another corridor that led to the front door, Brian noticed that Bilkins was standing by the wall, as if waiting for him.

"O'Conner." Bilkins greeted as if they hadn't just been talking a couple of minutes ago.

"Bilkins." Brian tilted his head, stuffing his hands in his pockets, rocking slightly on the balls of his feet. "The exit is down the corridor, on the left, if you're lost."

"I wanted to speak to you in private." Bilkins stepped up to Brian, crossing his arms over his chest.

Brian debated on what he should do. In the end, he decided to be civil since he would be working with the man for the foreseeable future. "Let's go outside." Brian led the agent outside the police station into a relatively secluded part near a bench used by officers who smoked on their break. "What did you want to talk about that couldn't be said in front of Tanner?"

"Why did you let Toretto go?" The agent waited no time in asking the question that had been bothering him.

Brian cocked his head the agent's attempt to get him to confess that he let Dom go. "I didn't let him go."

"You can bullshit all you want, Brian, but I know police procedure." Bilkins walked up to the now former officer. "No, it's pretty common really. An officer goes dark on their first undercover job. It's a little bit like Stockholm syndrome."

Brian knew that Bilkins wouldn't understand so he didn't say anything more regarding Dom and his family. Shaking his head, Brian walked past the agent, talking back at him. "Why me? I'm sure there are other officers out there who will be willing to take you up on your offer. I'm surprised you're willing to gamble with me again, considering the last SNAFU. The FBI academy not popping out agents like they used to?"

Bilkins eyed him from behind. "I'm just seeing if you really have what it takes to be an agent. I think Tanner was wrong in throwing you into crowds that you once ran with back when you were younger, into situations where you would be tempted by the feelings of family." The agent slipped on his pair of sunglasses. "That's why I'm asking you to drive for a drug dealer. Despite how wild you may be under that exterior of yours, you won't connect with people of that caliber, goes against your code, so to speak."

Looking back, Brian locked eyes with the agent. "You really believe that?"

"I know that. I'll see you tomorrow, O'Conner." The man began to whistle as he walked away, leaving a confused Brian behind, feeling as if he had done a deal with the devil.

* * *

"My operation does not need an officer like him." Agent Christopher Markham snarled, slapping down the personnel folder that Bilkins had handed him. "He's too much if a rogue factor. He'll get Fuentes killed out there."

Both men were waiting in the office sitting on the third floor of the FBI office in Los Angeles. Agent Markham had also brought the agent that would be O'Conner's partner during the operation. The rookie was currently drinking Sprite from a can, nervously tapping his feet on the floor. Even Bilkins himself could tell the man was too green to be handling such a case like the one they were on.

"I think you underestimate what he can bring to the operation. He's dirty enough to get in but he's on our side." Darrell wasn't fazed at the attitude the other man was showing. He had presented the same exterior when he was the senior agent in charge of the hijackings case in LA. "We can trust him."

"He's a rookie cop who messed up his first undercover operation and all because he got closed to the mark's sister. He doesn't follow protocol and the laws. One little mistake and Verone will get off without as much as a slap on the wrist."

"What you see as contempt for the law, I see the ability to adapt to one's situation." Bilkins leaned back, lacing his fingers behind his back. "O'Conner won't drop this one. The personality file says that he makes up sure he won't wrong the same person twice. He'll do whatever it takes to see this one through to the end."

"Are you willing to bet on that, Darrell?"

Bilkins was saved from answering the question. A knock sounded at the door before it opened, an FBI agent standing there. "There's a Brian O'Conner here to see you, sir."

The FBI agent stood up, the young Customs agent following suit despite almost upsetting his can. "Let him in. We've been waiting."

The FBI agent stepped back and Brian O'Conner walked through, dressed in light blue jeans and a light grey t-shirt. His bright blue eyes automatically scanned the room which Bilkins liked, falling on the young man, raising an eyebrow in response.

It seems the former cop was not enamored with Markham's choice.

"O'Conner, this is Christopher Markham, senior agent in charge of the operation, and Agent Michael Dunn, who will be your partner, from U.S. Customs. Markham, this is Brian O'Conner, formerly of the LAPD and now an FBI informant and consultant on the illegal street racing world."

Markham ignored the hand that O'Conner offered who just took it in stride and shook hands with Dunn. "So you're the man that let Toretto go." O'Conner's only response was to raise his head to meet the older man's glare, as if challenging him to accuse him of the crime of aiding him as well. "How do I know that you won't pull the same stunt here?"

"If I knew this was going to turn into an interrogation, I wouldn't have come."

"I'm just raising valid concerns about your presence on this case. I'm not going to have a year's worth of operations go down the drain because of some nancy cop that couldn't even do his job right."

"That's enough, Markham. He's the best chance to infiltrate the racing scene in Miami. If he can get into Toretto's crew here, he'll easily be able to slip in there."

"You're really serious in letting Agent Dunn be my partner?"

"He's one of the best agents to come out of the academy." Agent Markham shot off, annoyed that the dirty cop was questioning one of his own agents.

"I don't doubt that but I'm damn sure he's going to get us killed the moment we step onto Verone's turf. You can smell the academy training coming off him. They'll know from the ghetto. If I brought you a beat up Supra Mark IV and asked you what is the best engine to put in if I want it to go faster; a 2JZ-GE or a 1JZ-GE engine?" O'Conner snapped off, not removing his eyes from Markham, questioning the rookie's knowledge of cars.

Dunn shifted uneasily, his eyes going from Markham to O'Conner and back. Bilkins already knew that the kid was already losing. "Um," Dunn cleared his throat. "I would put the 2JZ in."

O'Conner didn't even break a stare. "The best answer would have been neither. The best engine to put into a Supra Mark IV is the twin turbo 2JZ-GTE engine."

Markham snarled grabbing the can from Dunn and throwing it into the trashcan where it clanged to the bottom. "What are you suggesting then, that you go in solo? The case requires a two man team."

"Verone will be hiring a pair of drivers who will work as a team. You'll need a partner for this operation." Bilkins explained to Brian. "It will also ensure that you'll have back up on the operation in case things go FUBAR."

"If I'm going to do this, I'm going to need someone who knows his way around cars."

"If it's another officer, I can get him temporarily assigned to us though the different jurisdictions might be a little tricky." Bilkins said as he thought over the possible laws he might have to bend to get the potential officer on board.

"That's the thing. He's not an officer."

"Oh, really? Is he one of the crew?" Markham asked sarcastically, still angry over the fact that Dunn had failed the test.

"No, Markham. He's someone from my past and I'm damn sure he'll be willing to do this to get off his parole early and his record wiped clean."

Markham snorted. "This just seems to be getting better and better. Not only am I forced to have a dirty cop on my hands, he wants to bring in one of his friends to the party."

"If you want this operation to happen, you're going to need people who don't look like they came off the academy press and who'll need mommy holding their hand."

"What's his name?" Bilkins asked, interrupting the growing spat between the two.

"Roman Pearce. I met him while I was in juvie, got caught in a raid for stolen cars just after I graduated from the academy in LA. He's currently paroled in Barstow."

The older Customs agent turned to Bilkins. "You are seriously considering in going along with this? We can get another agent from your side or my team to fill this role in."

"Markham, we've talked about this before. Verone has caught all our other previous officers who posed as illegal street racers in operations past. Fuentes is lucky since she's his personal assistant. We need drivers with reputations. Brian Spilner already has one as the man who challenged Toretto, putting his pink slip as collateral, and losing. Most of the racers here in L.A. know he was taken under Toretto's wing and learned the ropes. That's most than what we can hope for with other drivers." Bilkins explained once more. He stood up. "I guess you and me will be taking trip to Barstow."

"A couple more things if we're really doing this. He'll need his own car and I'll need the impound lot to sup up my Mitsubishi which will need to transferred into Spilner's profile."

Already, Bilkins could feel the headache coming on. "I'll see what I can do for you while we travel. Markham, I'll see you back in Miami."

"Won't be holding my breath." The Customs agent led his rookie out the door, storming down the hall while the other FBI agents looked in with mild interest.

"You certainly know how to rock the boat, O'Conner."

"Don't mean to." The former cop didn't seem remotely apologetic for his actions, acting just like he did a few months ago. "I've already placed my house on the market and I already have a couple of buyers interested. The agent will settle the deal away while I'm gone."

"Risky move."

"I'm considering this a new beginning." Brian crossed his arms. _Especially since I have nothing left here but memories, memories I would like to forget but can't._ "When are we leaving?"

"Right now if you like."

* * *

The next day, Bilkins and Brian were watching the last amateur derby of the day at the Barstow Speedway. As he watched, Brian took in the changes he saw in his former friend. Going through juvie had changed Brian and he was damn sure the changes one goes through after visiting prison were much harsher and deeper. Despite the subtle changes, however, Brian knew that Rome still liked being the center of attention.

Brian and Bilkins left the stands after the match ended, heading to where his former friend was walking through the entrance to the derby. Brian had seen the look of recognitions on the other man's face. "Roman Pearce!" The man continued to walk away, ignoring Brian's calls as he headed toward a trailer parked in the distance. Brian turned around to face Bilkins as he continued to follow Pearce. "Yo, whatever happens next just let it go."

"I ain't in it."

Brian whistled, knowing damn well his former friend would hear it. "Rome."

Pearce stopped and turned around, his face twisted in disgust. "Only my home boys call me Rome, pig." He spat on the ground, challenging Brian.

The blonde man stood his ground. "I'm not a cop anymore, bro." He didn't mention that he now worked for the FBI, knowing that little tidbit would not go over well.

Pearce started walking toward Brian, anger burning his dark eyes. "Is that true? Blondie here is not a cop anymore?"

Bilkins could immediately tell the game Brian was playing. "That's true, no badge."

Pearce looked out in the distance. Brian noticed the tightening of Rome's fist and nodded his head at Rome, allowing him to throw the first punch. It slammed into his face with all the force Rome could muster, almost knocking him to the ground. Bilkins looked on in amusement, using the fight as an opportunity to gauge Brian's ability to fight. "Woo! Here we go."

Following the punch through, Rome moved to try and land a second one. Brian ducked under it and positioned his body so he can swing his leg behind Rome's left leg, his right arm grabbing him high on his chest. Simultaneously, Brian swept his leg backward as he pulled his arm forward, tripping Rome up to slam him down into the ground

Except, Rome had anticipated the move as he had fought with cops before and reached up to grab Brian's shirt as he fell, bringing the man down with him. Brian moved to sit on his chest but Rome pushed the cop away, rolling on top of him. Brian quickly used his hands to block the punches Rome were throwing at him, using his legs to inhibit Rome's mobility.

As they continued to tumble around, Bilkins walked away to sit on the chair near the door to the trailer, eating the popcorn he had bought at the beginning of the derby. It looked like O'Conner knew how to fight, blending the fighting and take-down techniques he had learned from the academy with more gritty and rough ones learned in the dark streets of LA. Having this hybrid with the mind and morality of a cop mixed with the instincts of a criminal would be invaluable to have on the FBI's payroll. He would just have to be damn sure to mold it into proper agent. Having O'Conner as a wanted fugitive would be in any agency's worst nightmare but to have him as a protégé would look good when he retired from the FBI.

"You still fight like shit. You still fight like shit." Brian cursed, grunting as Rome took another swipe at him. "You got to chill."

Rome swung his fist across Brian's jaw, knocking the blonde's head back into the hard packed dirt. "What the hell are you doing here, cop? I told you –"

"I'm going to choke you." Brian warned, his left hand gripping Rome's right wrist.

"I told you to stay away from me." Rome snarled, knocking away Brian's attempt to choke him.

The former cop got his right arm under Rome's right armpit, forcing the other man sideways and into the dirt. Rome bucked his hips upward, trying to escape but Brian quickly got him in a chokehold.

Refusing to give in even as his face was held tightly against Brian's ribs, Rome tried to punch his back. "You should have told me. I did three years, Brian!"

"I told you it wasn't my fault." The fight came to an end, all of the fight draining out of the parolee. Brian released him, Pearce pushing him away.

Breathing harshly, Rome glared at the man he once called his best friend. "Why did you come here, O'Conner?"

"I got a deal for you." Brian dug his fingers into the loose dirt and flung a handful at Rome.

"When I needed your ass, you were nowhere to be found." Rome reached down and lifted the hem of his left pant leg high enough for Brian to catch a glimpse of the GPS tracker anklet, the red light blinking. "Now, you're trying to hand out deals?" He got up, Brian following suit, unsure if he was going to attack him again.

Crowding into Rome's face, Brian tilted his chin up, daring Rome to walk away from him. "I need you to come to Miami and drive with me. If you do, they'll take off that anklet and clear your entire record."

Rome stuck his hand between their faces, lifting three fingers. "I did three years in jail, three years in jail and where were you? I know you better than you think." He pushed Brian away only for the blonde to thrust his face back at him.

"Maybe you don't, maybe you don't." Pearce pushed at him again, walking the last few feet to the door of his trailer.

Bilkins glanced at the two dirty, winded men, wondering if it was a good idea to bring Pearce in. They couldn't afford ill feelings between them if they were going to go into a situation where they would have to depend on each other. "Guys finished?

"This deal legit?" Peace motioned toward Brian who was standing a little ways off from them, wiping at his mouth.

Bilkins munched another kernel of popcorn. "That's right, if you do this job for us."

"Told you."

"Shut up, punk. So you're going to clean my record and get this thing off my ankle." Pearce lifted his leg, slapping the device that was hidden under his pants.

"That's right. I thought you couldn't wander more than a hundred yards from your home?"

Rome hesitated, unsure of the man's words were meant as an insult or just out of plain curiosity. For once, rationale won. "Why do you think I'm parked so close to the derby?"

Brian interrupted, annoyed that Pearce was still bluffing. There was things he still needed to do and he couldn't afford the time being wasted to appease Roman's wounded pride. "Man, quit playing like you're going to pass this up."

Rome only glared at Brian, muttering obscenities under his breath. He opened the door and climbed inside.

Bilkins stood up, finishing the last of his popcorn. "Do you really think bringing him in is a good idea, O'Conner? It seems to me he still hates you."

"He won't get me killed. I know he'll watch my back despite whatever he says."

"Alright, both of you will be traveling back to the FBI office in LA. They will hook you up to the impound lots we have in our custody. I'm sure you'll be able to whip up something for your Mitsubishi. They're working right now on a Mitsubishi Spyder convertible and an Evo Lancer, if I remember the details correctly. They'll be waiting for you in Miami. Your friend can pick his car there."

"I want the Spyder." The two men turned around to see Roman walking out with a black duffle bag over his shoulder.

"This is all you're bringing? You'll be undercover a lot more than two days."

Pearce looked at the FBI agent, wondering if his question was sincere and not an insult. "When you're a parolee working a derby, you don't get paid much. I'm figuring I can get new clothes on the government's tab."

"Fair enough. You'll be riding with Brian to L.A. where you'll get kitted up for your journey to Miami. We'll do the debriefing there since we'll have more information gathered on the mark's operations. Just don't get caught."

"Funny."

* * *

The past two days had irked Brian more than he cared to admit. Between trying to close down on the small house he had bought when he thought he had settled, Roman getting used to walking around without the anklet, and him trying to fix up the Mitsubishi, Brian's nerves had shortened considerably but he still kept his temper in check. Most of the furniture had been donated to Goodwill, the bedroom set and his personnel belongings were on their way to a federal storage facility. As of the night before, Brian O'Conner's name had been frozen and hidden among the government computers while Brian Earl Spilner had appeared on the police database with a healthy misdemeanor history.

Brian slammed the hood down on the Mitsubishi, which was now in Spilner's name, eyeing the modifications he had installed on it. Before, it used to be a stock car that would be able to get him to the precinct and back as well as perform daily routines such as going to the grocery store. Now, the SOHC engine had been replaced with a twin-turbo DOHC V6 he had stolen off a wrecked VR-4, switching the vehicle from all-wheel-drive to rear-wheel drive, upgraded from 5 gears to 6, and installed a boost gauge. The beat up body kit Brian decided to replace with a Vader Duraflex body kit that he had painted a solid red.

The two NOS tanks the FBI had gotten for him had been installed under the backseat, the tubes running into the center console where he would easily be able to open up the valves.

"Ready to go, punk?" Roman asked him as he entered the facility where Brian had been working on the Mitsubishi for the past day, carrying his loaded duffel bag. Inside, probably were the files Bilkins had his men whip up for Roman. He knew they had changed the year of his birth to make him older, as well as listing an address that didn't yet exist in Barstow. They also added a few more crimes on par with Brian's to make it look the two had worked together before. He opened the back door of the Mitsubishi and threw his bag in, eyeing the car. Brian could tell that Roman was secretly pleased with the work he did. Working in Dom's garage had taught Brian a lot of new things, especially from Jesse. Swallowing heavily, Brian looked away, trying to keep his head in the game.

"I already have the roads mapped out so I'll be driving us to Miami. I'll let you race a couple so you can get the rust off your skills."

Roman showed off his teeth. "What, you don't trust me?"

" _Spilner_ has a reputation already in L.A." Brian stressed his new last name, making sure that Rome didn't use his birth name at all. "I'm planning to work it more and get noticed so that by the time we hit Miami, it wouldn't be too hard to infiltrate the racing scene there."

"Oh, what kind of reputation are we talking about? Last time I checked, you always got in trouble over girls." Roman noticed the pained expression that crossed Brian's face before the former cop could hide it and whooped in glee. "You _did_ get in trouble over a girl, didn't you? That's why you lost your badge. What did you do now? Fuck your mark and let her walk or did you abuse your undercover image and get all of pussy you wanted?"

"I didn't lose my badge. I resigned." The words, the acknowledgement, that he had been forced out of the department tasted bitter on his tongue.

"Sounds the same to me, bro." His former friend sneered. Brian fought the urge to wipe the smirk dancing around his lips off of his face. "I bet your masters caught you doing something you weren't supposed to be doing. Probably had to make sure their dog was sowing his oats with dirty hoes."

Temper igniting, Brian threw himself at Roman, his fingers digging into the material at his neck. "If you don't want to do this deal, you can walk your ass back to Barstow. We'll see how you like wearing that anklet of yours again for the remainder of your sentence." Brian snarled out. He gave one last shove before turning around to throw the tools he had used back into the tool chest. He slammed it shut, pointedly ignoring Rome as the man straightened himself out.

"I may not like working with you, pig, but I ain't walking back to Barstow. We do this and we go our separate ways." Rome said before leaving Brian to his thoughts.

* * *

Brian turned the engine over, hearing the roar of the twin turbo. The entire car thrummed with the energy running through it, the need for speed beginning to itch fiercely under his skin. Before he had gotten caught, Brian had never actually raced cars, not until meeting Dom. Practicing at using the controls after the LAPD and the FBI had him the basics hadn't prepared Brian for the pure adrenaline rush he had experienced once the Eclipse had broken from the starting line that Friday night. The closest thing that had compete with that experience was when Brian was being chased down by four police cars when he was 16 and it wasn't even close. Now that he had gotten a taste of what street racing was like, he couldn't get enough of it.

His thoughts were broken when Rome appeared on the side of the Mitsubishi. Opening the passenger door, Rome slid into the seat. His hand began tapping out a rhythm on the window once the door was closed.

"Let's get this show on the road, O'Conner."

He didn't answer. Instead, he nodded at the agent who was standing by the controls for the garage door. The man looked down at the console and touched something. The motors overhead began to whir as the cables snapped tight and began pulling up the heavy metal door. Brian crept forward, his mind going through every single thought and filing them away.

Once the door was high enough, Brian gunned it more, pulling the Mitsubishi onto the street, heading for Interstate 10. The highway would take them all the way to Jacksonville, Florida where they would hook up with Interstate 95 which would then carry them to Miami. Next to him, Rome thrummed with the freedom given to him. Maybe Brian would let him race in the outskirts of Arizona. He had to make sure Roman wasn't rusty from sitting on his ass while on house arrest.

From here on out, there was no more Barstow, no more disgraced LAPD officer, no more Brian O'Conner.

There would only be Brian Spilner, a petty criminal, former juvenile delinquent, and a night runner, chasing tomorrow and whatever may come.


End file.
